


Safety

by Cris



Series: In The Realm Of The Basses [3]
Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cris/pseuds/Cris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hated him; she hated him for being an arrogant, extremely touchy, stubborn idiot - too accustomed to rule and be domineering that he sometimes forgot not to use those ways with her - but, most of all, she hated him because she couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering for something she had inconsiderately said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding in there for ten minutes already, Chuck.” Blair rolled her eyes and continued to put on her ruby lipstick, staring at her reflection in the mirror of the vanity set.

Chuck didn’t answer; she heard, for the third time since he had entered his closet, the noise of some drawer being closed, another being opened and then, at last, her husband sighing heavily - that sound he made every time he was impatient and, in this case, the sign that the research for the “ _Right tie for this suit_ ” wasn’t proceeding well.

Picturing in her mind the surely bothered expression his face must have assumed, she giggled. “It’s taking you forever, Bass,” she said in a sarcastic tone, rising her voice to make sure he could hear her clearly. “You close deals faster than you choose your ties.”

The only reply she got was another sigh, this time longer, immediately followed by an indistinct muttering. Knowing that Chuck was probably complaining about her urging him to hurry (the solicitation to rush to get ready was certainly irritating for someone so vain), Bair shook her head in resignation and gave a last critic look to her reflection, smacking her lips together before placing the lipstick back in its place, together with the others.

She then turned, letting her eyes travel all around the room, as a smile spread across her face. The master bedroom was definitely her favorite spot in the house, it was stunning; even if it was elegantly furnished and regal in its style, it still gave her a nice sense of warmth.

It was exactly the feeling she wanted Chuck to experience, she had came to realize during the time spent looking for the ideal place to live and start building their future, that safety given by the awareness that there was a place he could really call home. They had found and bought their townhouse after six months of a very accurate research and Chuck, knowing how enthusiastic she was at the idea of creating the perfect environment for them, had left her carte blanche on the refurbishing works, attesting that he was more than happy to let her surprise him.

And she had. Blair had put so much energy and dedication into making every single corner of the residence comfortable and intimate - something very different from the hotel suites where he had spent his whole life - and the wide, genuine grin appeared on Chuck’s face when he had eventually seen the place finished for the first time, three weeks ago, had given her the confirm that all of her efforts have been worth it: _she_ was his home. She would have cherished the memory of his pure happiness forever, understanding its rarity and knowing she was the reason behind it.

Her smile became larger when she saw Chuck stepping out of his walk-in closet, holding two red ties, one in each hand. He stopped in the middle of the room, right in front of the bed, taking some time to stare at them with an indecisive look, intensely focused as he considered both of the options. After a while the corners of his lips curved into a self-satisfied tiny smile, showing that his doubts had disappeared and made room for a final choice; he delicately laid down the darker one on the duvet, careful not to crease its fabric, and then placed the other on the bed bench, leaving it where he knew that Ivan would have found it and put it back in its place.

“And, at last, he makes this incredibly difficult decision.” Blair mocked him, before turning back to the mirror to put on her earing.

From the reflection she saw him directing his gaze to her and arching his eyebrows in a slightly offended pose, which caused her to chuckle, not surprised but still amused by his clear susceptibility.

“Perfection requires time and care,” he dramatically declared as he approached her, pinning the cufflinks he had selected on the cream shirt while walking slowly. “I’ve never thought you had a problem with your husband looking unblemished.”

Once he reached her, he bent down to place a kiss on the nape of her neck. Blair closed her eyes; obeying to his movement, she bowed her head on the other side, sensing his lips still pressed against her skin curving into a smirk. The way he inhaled a deep, long breath, surely basking in the scent of her perfume, made her laugh softly.

“Of course I don’t,” Blair said after a few seconds, reluctantly interrupting that contact to push the chair back and stand up.

Chuck stepped aside. His silent, waiting – he was clearly expecting a compliment at that point - glance stayed fixed on her as she moved towards him and, when she got close enough, he took the chance to wrap an arm around her, his eyes going back up her figure.

“I am very much happy with my vain and incredibly handsome husband,” Blair praised him.

In an obvious sign of satisfaction, the smirk crossing his face turned sharper and more oblique and she couldn’t help but smile at the suddenly pleased light in his gaze. Blair started to unhurriedly run her hands up to his chest.

“What I have a problem with is arriving late to our brunch with Lily,” she told him, accurately fastening the first two buttons of his shirt, which he had left still undone. “It’s impolite.”

As her fingers started working on smoothing the fabric of the collar, Blair glanced up on him and gave him a resolute look, to which he responded rolling his eyes and huffing, the same thing he had done for the last two hours, ever since she had – and not without difficulties - woken him up.

It was a Sunday and Blair knew that Chuck’s ideal Sunday morning was spent entirely in bed, possibly with her, doing absolutely nothing besides giving into laziness (and often sex, obviously) and that’s exactly what they had done almost every Sunday of the eight months they had been married. Occasionally, though, Chuck let Lily convince him to agree on a brunch. She would have left for a vacation with William in two days and she had insisted that they’d attend, which was why they had ended up being already up and dressed at 10 AM – and his deliberate leisureliness was a blatant proof of how that circumstance certainly did not thrill him.

Chuck unwillingly let go of her waist and made his way to the king-sized bed.

“Lily won’t mind a bit of delay,” he stated in a indolent voice tone, bending down to collect the tie he had left rested there. He walked to the full body mirror on the other side of the room and stopped in front of it. “I need to talk to her about something that will definitely make her happy enough to forget any alleged act of rudeness.”

That statement made Blair immediately wrinkle her eyebrows with interrogative interest. “Something about Bass Industries?” she asked, curiosity causing her words to sound a little acute.

Whatever it was, it certainly had to concern business, she thought, because she had no idea of what he was talking about – which was odd to say at least. She couldn’t think about anything else that Chuck would have gone to discuss with his step-mother before letting her know first.

“Not exactly,” he said, his voice lowering as he focused on his reflection, making the loosen tie slide under the collar of the shirt till each edge reached precisely the height he wanted. “I’ve simply made a decision that I know she will agree with.”

Blair sat down on the bed, frowning. “A decision?”

“Yes,” he distractedly replied, absorbed by his figure in the mirror, as his expert fingers moved nimbly on the silk tie. Completely unaware of the traces of impatience suddenly appeared on his wife’s face, Chuck kept on tying a perfect Windsor knot, taking all the time necessary to do it with extreme care and not rushing to give her a less vague response.

He only turned to face her when he heard her clear her throat in a rather annoyed way.

“And since when do you make decisions without involving me?”

The irritated note in Blair’s voice suggested him that it was wise not to give in to the impulse to laugh in front of her undeniably piqued expression and uncontainable need to know everything. He finished fixing his tie, tightening it with one last rapid movement, and then made his way back to the bed.

“I wanted to be sure that I really wanted to go through with it before discussing it with you,” he answered, taking a seat next to her. Blair gave him a suspicious look when he placed one hand on her knee and then started to follow an imaginary trail along her thigh with his index finger. “And now that I am, I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you,” he lightly kissed her shoulder, which was only partially covered by the sleeveless dress she was wearing. “I had planned on doing it tonight, over dinner,” he glanced up, meeting her still very much wary eyes. He pushed a curl behind her ear. “But I suppose you won’t let me keep you hanging that long, am I wrong?”

He was really proud of whatever he had to tell her, Blair realized, watching his eyebrows arching in a satisfied way. Not only the intentional slothfulness he had put into pronouncing every word, careful to accompany them with theatrical pauses, but also his unequivocally gloating expression, made her grow even more curious and drained the last drop of her patience.

“I definitely will not,” she rolled her eyes. “Tell me, Chuck,” she ordered. “ _Now_.”

Under her inquisitive stare, the amused smirk which had immediately curved Chuck’s lips at her imperative approach – her voice had assumed those bossy, authoritarian notes that never missed to charm him - softened and turned into a little smile.

He took a deep breath and grabbed her hand. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our safety ever since we’ve moved in,” he said, starting to caress the back of her hand with his thumb. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that we do need a proper security service.”

Blair frowned in confusion. “But the house already has the best security system we managed to find.”

He shook his head. “I know, Blair, I’m not talking about the house,” he paused to bring his gaze on her. “I’m talking about personal security.”

She opened her eyes wide and then blinked. “Do you mean that you want to hire bodyguards?”

“Exactly.” Chuck nodded, his face becoming serious. “For me and also for you,” he added right away. He looked down for a moment, as he reached for her arm with his free hand and started stroking it, his fingers moving in small circles.

When he gazed up again, her expression surprised him. Blair’s eyes were narrowed in a perplex frown and Chuck felt completely unaware of the reasons behind it, since he had expected an enthusiastic reaction from her. Instead, his wife was staring at him in silence.

He sighed. “Staying at the Empire we had hotel’s security and, although it was hardly adequate, at least it was something. Now that we don’t live there anymore we are completely unprotected,” he kept on, hoping that explaining his motivations would have changed the way she was still looking at him with a surely not thrilled face. “It’s not safe, Blair.”

She briefly closed her eyes, pursing her lips. “So, let me understand,” she pulled away from him, freeing her hand from his grip. “You’ve established that I should have bodyguards and didn’t think that I had to be at least involved in this decision?” she stood up and crossed her arms, placing herself in front of him and glaring at him with plain indignation.“Don’t you think that my opinion on this is as important as yours?”

Utterly floored by that question and the accusation which it implied (that he didn’t consider her judgment equally valid), Chuck blinked. “Of course it is,” he answered, unable to contain a hint of offence in his tone. “But this isn’t really about opinions, Blair. It’s something that has to be done, whether you like it or not.”

He hesitated; the angry expression with which she was staring at him was completely incomprehensible to Chuck and that fact that he couldn’t give a meaning to the way she was acting made him feel nervous. He wasn’t used to not be able to understand her. He heavily breathed in and took his eyes off of her to fix them on the floor. “Honestly, after everything we’ve been through, I thought you’d be happy of this choice.”

Thinking about their still too recent – and also not so recent - history, he had genuinely supposed that not only she would have approved his decision, but that she would have also felt relieved, considering the way she was constantly worrying about him when he was out of town for business.

Not later than two days ago, flying back from Los Angeles, the jet had landed with a couple of hours of delay and she had come to the point where she had called him more than ten times, each call filled up with more anxiety than the previous one; Chuck had eventually arrived home to an overly agitated Blair and found himself incapable of calming her down properly, realizing that the reassuring words coming out of his mouth were, as a matter of fact, just words.

He couldn’t _really_ promise her that he wasn’t in danger, simply because he couldn’t be sure of it. She had all the rights to feel scared, her worries weren’t irrational, they had a foundation; he himself never felt secure and, also, the thought that could have happened to her _because of him_ never missed to haunt him and make him feel powerless other than guilty.

Although he had been thinking about it for quite a while, the fear in her eyes had finally convinced him that hiring security guards was simply the reasonable thing to do.

“Well, I am not!” she burst out, shaking him from his thoughts. She gave him a hostile look, before turning. “I will not let you impose me anything, _Charles_ ,” she pronounced his name in a higher, acuter voice. “And I surely won’t have your gorillas following me around.”

“Blair, you’re being unreasonable.” Even if he couldn’t see her face, he knew that his affirmation had surely made her temper worse, because he distinctly saw her shoulders raising and lowering faster, as her breathing accelerated. “You need to understand that in my position it is irresponsible not to take these measures. Being my wife, you are as exposed as I am.”

She swiftly turned to face him and looked daggers at him. “Your position? Are you even listening to yourself?” she let out a clearly sarcastic laugh. “Your ego truly knows no limits.”

Still sitting on the bed, Chuck stiffened and breathed in, trying not to lose his patience at her purposely offensive words. “Yes, Blair, my position,” he hissed, his voice turning sharper as he felt rage raising. “And if you weren’t acting like a child you would understand what I mean and that it has nothing to do with my ego,” he closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, to give her a firm stare. “It’s decided; I will not change my mind.”

“And I won’t either!” she shouted, moving a few steps in his direction. “You can do whatever you want, hire an entire private army for yourself if you think it is necessary, but don’t you dare thinking that you can control me.”

That statement hit him like a punch and he clenched his fist in a transport of anger. “Control you?” he asked almost in a whisper and, although he had tried to keep a cold tone, the words came out full of resentment. He stood up and rapidly approached her. “Do you think this is the reason why I’m doing this?”

Blair didn’t answer right away; Chuck saw her lips trembling under his look, as if she was having an hard time holding up his gaze. She swallowed, but she still kept her eyes on him.

“Absolutely,” she stubbornly said after a few seconds. “It’s not like you don’t have people followed all the time,” she raised her eyebrows at him, assuming a provocative pose. “And files on them.”

“But not on _my wife_.” The thought that Blair could seriously believe that he was putting her on the same level as all the people he didn’t respect and trust hurt him deeply. He stepped back, feeling the physical need to create some distance between them. “You should know that I would never disrespect you like that and even just the fact that this idea came to your mind is frankly insulting.”

“Wouldn’t you?” she obstinately answered back. “You’re already making decision about my life, after all.”

Chuck gave her one last outraged look and then glanced down, lightly shaking his head. Refusing to look at her, he walked to the clothes valet, where his jacket was still hanged; he grabbed it and quickly put it on. The sound of Blair’s heels tapping rapidly on the floor told him that she had reached him. He intensely breathed in to cool off and gain back his composure before turning around to face her.   
  
“I am not,” he stated coldly. “I am just trying to be a responsible person, but if this is really the opinion you have about me, then I’m done fighting with you, Blair.” He buttoned up the suit and then raised his gaze on her. “We will discuss this again when you’ll decide not to be so immature.”

Noticing the angry tears that had filled Blair’s eyes, Chuck glanced down; as infuriated as he was, no matter how offended and upset he felt by the way she had misjudged him, he still couldn’t bear to see her crying. He turned his back on her and waked towards the door.

Blair followed him. “Where do you think you’re going?” she yelled, grabbing his arm and pulling it to force him into facing her again.

“The office,” he said, still without looking at her. His voice had become even lower and somehow rigid, detached. “I won’t attend brunch, you can go alone. Please,” he ran a hand through his hair, keeping the eyes fixed on the ground. “Apologize to Lily for my absence and tell her I’ll call her tomorrow. I will see you later.”

Chuck turned again and walked through the door, feeling Blair’s stare on him as he stepped out of the room.

* * *

 

“Honestly, Blair,” said Serena, rotating her hands in the air to accompany the confused frown on her face. “I don’t really understand why you’re _so_ angry,” she grabbed a pistachio macaroon from the tray where the pastries were served and took a bite. “I mean, I get that you can’t stand the fact that he didn’t ask your opinion, but, as much as I hate to admit it, I think he’s right.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “He _isn’t_ ,” she stubbornly stated, her voice reaching an higher tone as she gave her best friend an obstinate look. “He’s being paranoid, it’s different.”

They were curled up on the couch, in the living room of Blair’s penthouse (Serena had recently moved back there, tired of staying with her mother – and father, since him and Lily were, in fact, back living together – but still not ready to share Dan’s place with him), where they had gone after leaving the Van Der Woodsen’s apartment.

The brunch had been absolutely frustrating for Blair; she had spent the entire time trying to keep her impeccable façade, not to show any trace of the anger she hadn’t been able to relieve herself from.

When she had arrived alone and Lily had questioned about Chuck’s absence, complaining because she hadn’t gotten the chance to see him before leaving for her trip with William, Blair had really struggled to accompany her words with a bright smile.

“He apologizes,” she had told her, making an effort to maintain her voice calm and harmonious. “Something urgent came up and he had to stop by the office, but he said he’ll call you tomorrow. I’m sure he will invite you for lunch and you two will have all the time to catch up before you leave.”

Having known her mother-in-law ever since she was a kid and being well aware of the fact that she was a definitely perceptive person, Blair had understood that she hadn’t bought her excuse and the skeptical look the woman had reserved her had made it pretty clear. However, out of manners, Lily had simply smiled and made a comment about how “ _Charles_ ” wasn’t supposed to “ _stress himself so much_ ”.

The tone full of care with which she had pronounced those words had made Blair even more nervous; Chuck still hadn’t called her to apologize for dismissing her in the middle of an argument – after having defined her _childish_ and _immature_ – and hearing someone talking about him in such a loving way had made her think, once again, about how much she hated him for being a passive-aggressive _asshole_.

Anyway, realizing that Lily was giving her a way out, Blair had kept the grin on her face. “He really shouldn’t,” she had agreed, using her sweetest voice. “Actually, I was considering to propose him a relaxing weekend somewhere. Where are you and William going, again?”

After sixty minutes, that Lily had spent talking in details about the vacation she had planned, Serena, who had been suspiciously eyeing Blair for the whole time, surely noticing her rigid, fake attitude, had finally approached her and suggested to leave.

“We can stop by to pick up some macaroons from _Ladurée_ and then head to the attic,” she had offered. “We’ll have a nice time and you can also tell me what you and Chuck are fighting about.”

Blair had decided that she was too angry to deny it and, not willing to come back home, she had accepted the invitation. Unfortunately, after having spent two hours ranting about her husband to a very perplexed Serena, Blair had given up to the fact that her best friend just couldn’t understand the seriousness of the situation, since she refused to see how wrong _Chuck_ was and, instead, how many reasons to be furious _she_ had.

“I don’t think he is,” Serena indeed contradicted her. “And neither do you,” she pointed her index finger at Blair, who arched her eyebrows in an incredulous expression. “You are always so anxious when he’s away,” Serena explained, gesticulating to give more credibility to her point. “When was it that you totally freaked out just because his flight was late?” she asked. “Last week?”

Blair blinked and her mouth opened in surprise, assuming the shape of a small circle. “That was two days ago,” she closed her eyes and lightly shook her head “And it’s beside the point, S!” she raised a hand and moved it in a dismissing wave, as if she was trying to shoo Serena’s words away, so that she could ignore them. “And even if, _hypothetically_ , he was right about him needing bodyguards,” pronouncing the word “ _right_ ” her voice assumed a derisive shade, “He still had _no_ right to try to impose me the same measures.”

“If he does need them, as constraining as it may be, then you need them too,” the blonde commented, raising her eyebrows at Blair, who was reaching for a macaroon and doing her best to pretend not to listen. “It is only logical, B.”

Blair glanced up from the silver tray and glared at her. “Serena,” she articulated the letters sharply, in a clearly admonishing way. “He said ‘ _Whether you like it or not_ ’, as if I had no possibility to make an objection.” Remembering his words, she felt irritation flushing her cheeks again and she gave vent to the ire by aggressively biting the light green pastry she was holding in her hand. “It’s unacceptable.”

“And I agree with you,” Serena rushed to say, careful not to aggravate her best friend’s already dangerous temper. “His approach was wrong and he had to involve you in the decision, but it doesn’t change the fact that he has a point.”

Blair grumbled, making a mocking sound and rolled her eyes, as she proceeded to grab another macaroon.

Serena sighed. “Look, even mom has been begging him to hire security for years, but he’s always refused.” At that revelation Blair’s eyes immediately focused on her best friend; she stared at her with a both confused and curious expression, silently asking her to keep on. “You know,” Serena lowered her gaze and bit her lip, something that Blair knew she did every time she had to say something but didn’t know how to. “She got pretty scared after Prague.”

Blair gasped; as soon as Serena raised her eyes back on her, giving her a worried look, she glanced down, feeling a shiver down her spine. Her best friend had just brought up one of the many things she had been trying not to think about ever since Chuck had communicated her his intentions, because it would have obligated her to admit that he was indeed right.

She vigorously shook her head to drive those thoughts away from her mind and sighed as well. “He may be right, Serena, but he remains an asshole,” she kept on, bringing back her gaze on the blonde. “He dismissed me! He called me childish and immature and then he just left, as if he didn’t care,” she vented and a pinch of irascibility made her voice trembling and acute. “He doesn’t even show anger, he just turns emotionless and stiff as a stone and refuses to speak to me!”

It was the one thing she maybe hated the most about him, she decided again in that moment: the way he turned cold and distant when they argued. While rage tended to cause her to yell and move frenetically, Chuck’s typical reaction was to build up invisible walls and to stop talking, which usually ended up making her hit the roof.

She knew him well enough to understand that he cared and that he was generally at least as heated as her, but his displayed indifference – and his ability to maintain such a detachment and control – was sincerely frustrating and, for Blair, provoking.

Serena wrinkled her eyebrows at Blair’s words. “That doesn’t sound like Chuck,” she remarked, bowing her head on one side and gazing at Blair with an uncertain expression. “He may be touchy and peevish, but he wouldn’t leave you in the middle of a fight without a reason.”

Blair pursed her lips. “Oh, trust me,” she affirmed, glancing away from Serena. “It’s exactly like him.” She grabbed a pillow and placed in on her lap, nervously drumming her fingers on the fabric.

“Blair,” Serena tried to get her attention back, skeptically eyeing her. “Is there something you didn’t tell me?”

Blair didn’t answer; she started looking around instead, focusing her eyes on anything that wasn’t her best friend’s stare. She heard Serena huffing and, although she was refusing to meet her gaze, which was still unpleasantly fixed on her, she knew that the blonde had assumed that slightly annoyed pose she used when she was starting to get bothered by Blair’s supposed denial.

“Blair,” Serena called her again. “Come on.”

Blair snorted. “Fine!” she exasperatedly uttered, rolling her eyes at Serena. “I may have accused him of trying to control me,” she muttered. “And making decisions about my life.”

“Blair!” Serena exclaimed, opening her eyes wide. She looked at Blair with plain surprise and a bit of accusation in her stare.

“What?” Blair burst out, glancing up for a moment. “I was angry, Serena,” she then justified herself, lowering her gaze again. “I wasn’t thinking straight.” She deeply breathed in and then turned silent, keeping on torturing the pillow she was still holding.

“I know you probably won’t listen to me,” Serena quietly said after a while and Blair immediately glanced up, raising her eyebrows in a distrustful way. “But you should apologize.”

“I will not do such a thing!” Blair answered straightaway, as an offended scowl formed on her face. “He’s the one who needs to apologize.”

She obstinately crossed her arms. The idea of putting aside her pride and say sorry first went against everything she had promised herself she wouldn’t have done when she had seen him walking out the door and leaving her there, standing in the middle of their bedroom; she had sworn that she wasn’t going to forgive him so easily for his annoyingly dictating, disrespectful behavior.

But she had been disrespectful herself. Thinking back to the accusations she had made against him, now that Chuck wasn’t there and that a few hours had passed since when she had blurted them out in front of him, in what had been an obvious – and, sadly, she realized now, successful – attempt to hurt him as much as he had offended her, they sounded absolutely ridiculous. She had regretted them immediately, actually, in the moment the words had left her mouth, but she had been so overcome by rage that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from hitting him where she knew he was vulnerable.

Although Chuck could be a rather intimidating person and had no qualms about using all of his means to make sure he had everything – and everyone – under control, the relationships with his loved ones where strictly based on trust; he was an exceptionally loyal and respectful person with that restricted group of people and Blair knew that her claiming that he had treated her like he treated the rest of the world must have insulted him deeply.

Serena shook her head. “It looks like you’ve both said and done things you didn’t mean.”

Blair’s angry expression softened and changed into a sad pout. She hated him; she hated him for being an arrogant, extremely touchy, stubborn idiot - too accustomed to rule and be domineering that he sometimes forgot not to use those ways with her - but, most of all, she hated him because she couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering for something she had inconsiderately said, with the only purpose of making him feel bad. The heavy sense of guilt weighting on her chest was far stronger than her usually inflexible aversion to admit that she was wrong.

“I don’t like when you speak wisely, S,” she heaved a sigh, as Serena rolled her eyes at her. “I sounds wrong; it’s against the natural order of things.”

* * *

 

 

When Blair crossed the doorstep to the townhouse it was already late afternoon. It had taken her several hours to finally get home, a time that she had spent brooding over their argument and doing everything she could think of to postpone the moment she would have had to come back, aware that he was surely waiting for her and somehow scared to face him, to look into his eyes and meet a glimpse of resentment in his dark gaze.

She held her breath when Chuck’s scent reached her nostrils, giving her the confirm that he was indeed there. He used to wear so much cologne that he always left a trail of perfume behind him; whenever he arrived before her, she could always tell that he was home from the way the foyer smelled of _Fahrenheit_ [1], an irrefutable proof of his passage.

She felt a brief sensation of relief warming up her chest at the realization that he was close to her, in their house, and a tiny, unconscious smile bent the corner of her lips. She suddenly felt the impellent need to see him, to talk to him and make sure he knew that she didn’t mean a single thing she had said during the fight and her body naturally guided her to the stairs. She rapidly climbed them and stopped on the last step, which separated her from the living room.

Blair found him there, sitting on the sofa with his back turned to staircase, and, even though he couldn’t see her, she understood that he had still become aware of her presence when she heard him sighing heavily and noticed his hand slightly moving on the couch’s armrest where he had rested it, in a physical reaction to her arrival, as if he had wanted to stand up and greet her, but forced himself not to instead.

Chuck didn’t turn to let his eyes meet her figure and Blair hesitated, tensely curling her fingers around the handrail. Somehow, even if she could only spot his shoulders and the nape of his neck, she was still able to recognize his rigid posture and distinguish the nearly inaudible sound of his fingers tapping on the crystal glass he was surely holding.

“You’re back,” Blair realized she had closed her eyes only in the moment her eyelids snap opened, responding to his low, deep voice. “I was waiting for you,” he paused and his silence forced her to finally climb the step and walk slowly towards him. “You didn’t call.”

Something in his tone was surprisingly different from what she had imagined it to be at that point. It didn’t display anger or let coldness show through. It was flat; there was a gloomy note in the sound of his words and in the way he had pronounced them slowly, as if he was actually making an effort to speak.

Blair came around the couch and placed herself in front of him, staring at him, as her eyes focused on the details of his expression, on the intensely pensive frown darkening his features and on the way his lips missed the innate, unconscious half smirk they were usually curved into. His gaze stayed firm on the amber liquid filling the glass squeezed in his hand for a second more, before he slowly guided it to his mouth and took a small sip; that somehow automatic gesture made it easier for him to maintain his intent not to look at her.

Blair sighed. “I knew I would have found you at home,” she said. “And I knew that you wouldn’t have answered me.”

It was a conciliating reply, that she had pronounced in a purposely guilty, sweet voice, but she knew that he had still definitely perceived in her tone the traces of frustration undeniably revealing the irritation she felt at the idea of apologizing.

She noticed his lips puckering a little, as he tried to hold back a vague smirk, probably arisen from the irrepressible - even through his clear bitterness – pleasure he must have felt at her statement, conscious of what a rare occurrence seeing her going against her pride was.

“You’re right,” he eventually glanced up on her and Blair feebly smiled, unable to keep herself from feeling a pinch of satisfaction given by the awareness that she knew him so well to be always able to predict his behavior. “I wouldn’t have.”

Still, as his eyes fixed on hers with more insistence, she couldn’t help but look down. “Chuck —”

“The things you said about me trying to control you,” he interrupted her right away, obligating her to raise her eyes back on him. He guided his free hand to his clenched jaw and started to rub it tensely. “Do you really mean them?” he asked. “Do I make you feel like that, Blair?”

Although he had started speaking with a deliberately brusque tone, at some point between his questions that sharpness had diminished in a low, unsteady pitch, exposing an ill-concealed deep end of fear when he had pronounced her name.

Blair felt her eyes filling up with tears and she briefly shut the eyelashes to push them back; the thought of having hurt him made her heart ache.

“No,” she immediately said, sitting down next to him. “No, you don’t.” She slowly slid on the couch to get closer and cautiously curled her fingers around his wrist, lightly stroking it with the index. “You make me feel respected and free, every day.”

Blair felt his arm stiffening at her touch. “But you sounded pretty sure of what you accused me of.” He inhaled a deep breath and moved his hand, freeing it from her grip with the excuse of drinking another bit of scotch. Swallowing the liquor, he lowered his gaze.

The way he had immediately gone on the defensive, refusing physical contact and denying her words, made her realize that he was scared. Blair knew that the things she had said had caused him to doubt his capability to make her happy, to be a good husband for her, and she was also conscious of how that thought deeply frightened him. It was something so typical of him; since fear was an unacceptable feeling to Chuck, he repressed it as much as he could and turned harsh instead.

“I really didn’t mean it,” she assured him and delicately reached for his hand again. “I know you would never try to control me. You’re not that kind of man, not with me.”

Although he kept his eyes on the floor, her words convinced him to stop fighting against her touch and he let her take the glass he was still holding; she grabbed it and placed it on the small table in front of the couch before bringing her hand on his again and weaving their fingers together.

“I lost my temper, Chuck,” she tried to explain. “You know how I can’t stand when things get me by surprise. You had never mentioned the intention to hire security guards before and I felt excluded.”

He stayed still for a few seconds and then he moved on the sofa, turning in her direction and eliminating that bit of distance he had created between them. “I didn’t mean to exclude you,” he said, glancing up on her again. His voice sounded a bit calmer and Blair felt relieved to meet his gaze, finding a softer light in its darkness. “The only reason why I didn’t tell you sooner is that I sincerely wanted to surprise you. I know how anxious you always are and I thought that this would have made you feel better.”

“I know,” Blair nodded and a small smile formed on her lips. “But it’s something that we should have discussed first. It’s a decision that affects both of our lives.”

Chuck sighed. “It does, but I don’t think it’s arguable, Blair,” he said, calmly but not less firmly than when he had told her the same thing that morning. He lifted his free hand from the armrest and guided it to her shoulder; he squeezed it with strength, in a protective gesture. “I’m afraid that it isn’t a choice, it’s a necessity,” he grazed directly into her eyes. “Do you understand why?”

Something in his tone, a shaky note behind the inflexibility which had accompanied his words, told her that he was having an hard time talking about that topic. Blair didn’t need him to explain what he was referring to, though; she perfectly understood.

Deep inside, to be honest with herself, she had known that he was just being rational and reasonable all along, but she had been so angry at him for excluding her from a decision concerning both of them that she had forced herself to keep away from her mind the memories of all the occasions when she had risked to lose him for good over the years, both as a consequence of the lack of love for himself he used to struggle with and because of the people who had deliberately tried to hurt him – and her, using their relationship and love as a mean to threaten him.

The most recent ones - which were also probably the scariest and the most painful - still terrorized her and she knew that agreeing on the fact that they did need personal security would have also implied admitting that something as dangerous could have happened again and that she had absolutely no control over it. As irrational as it was, Blair felt that it was _her_ responsibility to make sure Chuck was safe and accepting that she wasn’t enough, that she couldn’t protect him from everything, from the risks that occupying such a position of power implied, wasn’t a tolerable idea for her.

“I do,” she answered weakly. “I just hate that it makes me feel powerless.” Admitting it out of loud lightened the weight on her chest, as she allowed herself to be honest with him about what was her true problem with his decision.

Chuck slightly nodded in response. “I feel the same,” he confessed her, lowering his gaze for a moment before glancing up again and fixing his eyes on her. “We got overcome by rage earlier and I didn’t get the chance to explain myself, so let me.”

He breathed in and Blair saw him struggling for a moment to find the words, something that never missed to make her lips bend in a tender smile, since she knew how he preferred not having to say anything and trust instead her always profound knowledge of his thoughts and emotions.

“I can’t bear the thought that something could happen to you because I’m being irresponsible by not considering the risks and not guaranteeing us safety at the peak of my possibilities. I am your husband, I have to protect you.” He inhaled another deep breath. “And I have to protect myself,” he added, lowering his tone as if he was somehow less secure of his words. “I’ve been reckless for so long, Blair, because I simply didn’t care about my life,” his voice broke in a bitter laugh and he paused, shaking his head.

Blair’s eyes unconsciously lowered; she rested them on his lower abdomen, right where she knew there was a scar, and her shoulders trembled, as she felt tears wetting her eyes again. Sensing her fear, Chuck held her hand tighter; he moved the other one away from her shoulder and brought it to her chin, delicately lifting it up to make her raise her gaze back on him.

“But I’m not that person anymore,” he definitely declared, sounding confident and determined again. With his thumb he lightly stroked her cheek. “I’m building a life with you, I want to have a family with you and I just can’t afford to be careless.”

Under his stare, which had stayed focused on her eyes for the whole time, Blair felt, if possible, exposed and secure at the same time. The possibility of losing him, made clear by the fragments of past which that day had brought back to her mind, made her feel fragile, as much as the touch of his hands gave her a strong sense of stability and protection.

She took some seconds of silence to look at him, studying his both serious and secure expression; a flare of pride immediately made a spontaneous smile spread on her face and he smiled back, one of Chuck’s tiny, almost imperceptible smiles that she loved.

“You’re right,” she reached for his hand still under his chin and insinuated her fingers between his. “I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult.”

Chuck let go of her other hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer so that she could curl up next to him and place her head on his chest. “It’s okay,” Blair raised his eyes on him just in time to spot a pleased smirk making appearance on his lips. “I haven’t been so kind myself,” he said anyway, gently caressing her shoulder by making his fingers go up and down on her skin. “I should have tried to give you a better explanation instead of being so imperative.”

Blair suddenly frowned. “You’ve also called me childish,” she reminded him, accuse and hilarity mixing in her voice. “And immature.”

Chuck laughed softly, receiving a playful slap on his chest as response.

“Don’t laugh, Bass,” she commanded him, in her bossy tone. “You may have been right, but you’re still going to be punished for that.”

He gave her a mischievous look. “I’m looking forward to being tortured.”

Her protests – “ _You’re such a pervert, Chuck!_ ”- got silenced by a deep kiss, with which he put a definitive end to their discussion.

The following day, first thing in the morning, they conducted interviews to select bodyguards together and, once she got used to the system, Blair found out that it really didn’t bother her too much; “ _It adds a certain aura of importance to my image, doesn’t it?”_ she proudly told Serena over brunch a month later, before turning to smile at her husband sitting next to her.

He was safe, she thought. They both were.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Fahrenheit is a cologne for men by Christian Dior. In 6X06 (I guess?) Bart recognizes it as Chuck's perfume.  
> [2] The idea for this one-shot came to my mind during the GG re-watch that I'm currently going through. I find rather absurd that Chuck never had bodyguards and it's crazy - at least to me - to think that he still won't after all that happened in the series finale, also considering that he will, indeed, take control of BI. People in his position usually take these measures. And, honestly, with everything that happened to him over the years, in my opinion, it's only logical that he will hire security.  
> [3] English is still not my language, I'm Italian. I apologize for possible mistakes.


End file.
